I Thank Heaven Everyday For You
by Lex Avalon
Summary: A short Fanfic with Ron and Hermione, set after the war. Its just a one-shot at the moment but I could expand it... C:


Hermione walked briskly with a steady sort of haste down the dark muggle street. Hazy lights from the nearby windows cast dancing shadows from her feet, making the smooth cobblestone look jagged and dangerous. It was cold and the wind was bitter. Hermione raised her eyes and wrapped her coat more tightly around her, trying to seal in what body heat she had. She licked her lips absent mindedly, gazing up the street and trying to pick any shapes from the gloom that lay before her. Most people would of said it was quiet, but Hermione knew better. Not many people took notice of the little sounds that didn't seem that important, but of course she did. If you listened hard enough, you could hear faded voices that bloomed from the television sets, you could hear a babies comforting wail, you could hear everything. The mere sound of the life enveloped Hermione like a blanket; warm, soft and soothing. Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, when Ron had kissed her, Hermione needed that reassurance. She'd lost many good friends that day, and had seen more death then anyone would ever want to. Even if she didn't know the bodies that seemed to crowd the hall that day, she always get overwhelmed by the amount of destruction and dying that could of been prevented. Hermione supposed that was why she joined the Ministry instead of becoming an Auror like Harry and Ron. It was much more quiet, with less blood and trauma. It worked to her skills; brains and understanding. It just felt so nice to Hermione to know that she wasn't alone, as long as she could her the faint sounds that were life.

Hermione smiled to herself, brushing her hair back from her eyes. Maybe it was stupid, she thought, but sometimes it was all she had.  
><em>N<em>o, muttered a little voice in her head, it was never what she always had. She'd always had Ron. He was her light, her heart. He was funny and kind like no one else. When the dark times came after the war, Hermione fell into a deep hole. She had felt lost and lonely and scared, so scared. It was hard for her to comprehend the events that had happened, so it all became a befuddled mess in the back of her brain. It hurt, it would consume her thoughts and dreams until it drove her insane. Sometimes she couldn't keep her head in the right place, or herself in the right mind. Sometimes she was drifting through a soulless dark state that she couldn't t bear to live through. Most of the time, she thought about death.

Then Ron came, he shone like a flame through the dark clouds, handsome and intriguing. His face was like an angels; understanding, beautiful and chiseled. He was he hope. Hermione remembered the first time they had talked after the war; She had cried and clawed at herself, trying to break free of her demonic restraints, and Ron had took her hand in his and said her name. _Hermione._ That was all it took.  
>Hermione awoke, now alive after all those weeks surviving in the repulsive dark. All that she had felt was Ron's hand, and a burning fire in her heart that warmed her down to her toes. Her stomach did back flips and she felt like she had smiled for the first time. This was love, Hermione knew. She loved Ron like nothing else. Without him, she could not live.<p>

Ever since, their relationship had bloomed into an extraordinary swirl of bliss. Everyday was a flash of happiness for them, a mixture of senses and pictures. Each moment they spent together was a carefully crafted photograph; precise yet wild. Time seemed to bleed together when they were within contact to each other, the weeks went fast, but none of them minded that much, they had forever after all.

Hermione laughed as the soft blanket of memories filled her with euphoria. She stretched her fingers down by her sides, enjoying the slight tingle that crept down to the tips and back up again. It was strange, she thought, that love can make you so appreciative of the little things in life. It turned the world into something different, a technicolour paradise. After when Ron first kissed her, she'd returned to her home and gazed into the mirror at herself. She'd always regarded herself as plain, if not ugly. Her face was not stunning or pretty, but just simple. It was the sort of face you'd see in the street and forget almost instantly. Her eyes were too brown, so much so that you could barely see the pupils. Her lips were full, however a boring skin colour made them seemingly unattractive. Her figure was child like and dull. Hermione used to hate herself.  
>Nevertheless when she looked into the mirror that night, she saw a bright young woman with a glowing face, that seemed to radiate beauty. She saw something angelic and different. Hermione saw herself in Ron's eyes.<p>

Hermione looked up the street. The streetlights invaded her sight, making her blink and wait for her eyes to adjust. At the end of the street, the orange was silhouetted by a grey shadow. It was hazy to her eyes but it didn't matter, she knew what it was.

Hermione's house perched on the grass haggardly like a baby bird. It was a pale tan colour with crumbling bricks and faded tiles. Leaves curled up around it, green and vivid, even in the darkness. The path was strewn with dirt and rocks, but it had a slightly artistic look about it. Hermione loved the way it twisted through the flower beds. The gate was white with eaten away wood, but it was still as strong as ever. It was an old house, but it's archaic beauty was imploring and historic. It smelled like history.  
>As she approached, she began to grin in nervous glee. Behind those walls was Ron. Hermione winded herself around the path, avoiding the bigger rocks in clumsy steps. She laughed giddily as she stumbled slightly, catching her foot on a overgrown vine. She stared at the door as she came closer, her careful posture morphing into an excited dance. She grinned as she slid the brass key into the door.<br>Hermione stretched as she came into the hallway, scanning around for Ron. He wasn't there. Didn't he hear her fall? Her grin faded slightly, but she shook herself out of it. He may have just not heard. Hermione tossed her keys onto a elaborate wooden table by the spiral staircase. The staircase seemed to be woven out of silver, it looped up towards the ceiling and then disappeared among gold and silver drapes. Hermione adored it, it was her favourite thing in the house.  
>She stood by the door to the living room, peeking her head inside to see if Ron was there. The couch was empty, and flat, so nobody had sat in it.<br>"Ron?" she called softy as she moved through the kitchen and back towards the hallway, "I'm home"  
>There was no reply, and Hermione bit her lip with a frown, he should be back by now, she thought anxiously, so why wasn't he?<br>"Ron?" she yelled, her voice trembling, "Ron?" she walked towards the staircase, slipping of her shoes quietly. Maybe he was asleep upstairs? As Hermione walked up the twisting steps, her mind wandered to all the worst possibilities. What was going on?  
>She heard a soft creak behind her. It was indeliberate, and cautious, which mean trouble, why would Ron bother to hush his steps? Hermione paused, her hand snaking down to her pocket, where her wand lay. Her shaking fingers curled around it, embracing the warm wood as it trembled at her touch. She waited.<p>

Hermione felt a hot breath against the back of her neck but she didn't dare move. That was the key to self defense, wait for the right moment to strike. Her tongue traced the shape of her lips nervously, and she felt a hand creep up her shoulder towards her neck. Hermione slipped her wand out of her pocket. The grip tightened and it spun her around.  
>"Boo"<br>Hermione gasped, her surprise causing her to stumble. Strong arms caught her and embraced her gently. She gritted her teeth in annoyance.  
>"Ron!" she shouted, her voice cracking, "What is wrong with you?You scared the life out of me!" Hermione pulled a clawed hand through her hair. "Are you insane? I could of hexed you! Why would you even-"<br>Hermione stopped, and glared at Ron, who was doubled over in manic laughter. He clutched the banister and gazed at Hermione who had a quivering scowl on her face.  
>"Your face!" he said and laughed. "Sorry" murmured Ron to a frowning Hermione. "Come on, you're not really angry with me"<br>Hermione raised an eyebrow.  
>Ron's hand reached up and rested on Hermione's cheek, who smiled seemingly against her will. "See? He whispered, you can't stay mad at me, Hermione" Her leaned upward and kissed her on the cheek and she beamed.<br>"I hate you." she muttered sarcastically.  
>"No you don't" said Ron his grin widening. Faster than Hermione could register, Ron picked her up over his shoulder and sprinted down the stairs, Hermione screaming. Her legs were kicking in a cartoon manner and Ron's arms tightened around her.<br>"Ron! Let me down!"  
>They flew past the living room door and Ron tossed her onto the couch. Before she could get up, Ron was knelt down on top of her, his hands pressing her wrists down on the cushion. Their faces were close, and they could feel each others breath on their own lips.<br>"Hermione" whispered Ron, pressing his lips down on hers.  
>Hermione's lips flared, they trembled in release. Her mouth was moulded perfectly onto Ron's and they moved together in a chaotic shiver of emotion. Hermione could feel the Ron's hands entangled in her bushy hair, tugging softly. Her own hands were pressed against his chest, and the muscles beneath his shirt moved below her fingertips like a snake to it's charmer. Hermione smirked and kissed him harder. This was what she wanted. All that she cared about was this. There was no time to think, everything was instinctual. Her lips began to ache but it didn't matter. Their lips clashed in a fierce kind of hunger, one that was familiar to both of them. Hermione opened her mouth slightly when she felt Ron's tongue brush against her lower lip.<p>

They pressed against each other, as close as they could get, gasping with a strangled sort of desire. Ron pulled back, and both of them inhaling deeply, trying to catch up on their missed air. Ron looked at Hermione, eyes smiling but his face was calm. He leant over and placed his head by Hermione's neck breathing softly as she shifted beneath him. He placed his lips of the tender skin on Hermione's neck and began to kiss it. She gasped and closed her eyes. As she drew in a shaky breath, the looped her hands around Ron's neck to rest on his upper back. Her legs wrapped around Ron's waist, her toes curling on the waistband of his jeans and he drew in a gasp. His hands slid down to rest on the middle of her thigh, and his fingers drew tiny circles. Hermione's palms were lay on Ron's shoulder blades, which were moving steadily and he stroked her inner thigh. She loved the way they rocked beneath her fingertips; solid and reassuring. The feeling on her neck intensified, and Hermione gasped and pressed her face into Ron's cheek. The spot where their faces met was on fire, the emotion between them sending intense shudders down Hermione's spine.

Ron stopped and looked at Hermione. When their eyes met, Ron swept up Hermione and ran her upstairs to their bedroom. They stood at the edge of their bed for a second, examining each others faces. Ron smiled as he brushed a stray hair from Hermione's face. He took her hands and they both fell over backwards onto the bed, both of them laughing on the way down. They embraced again in their wild passion, they were kissing deeply with roaring desire. Ron's hands brushed up Hermione's stomach to her chest, were he began to undo the top buttons of her flimsy white shirt. She felt a glimmer of worry; she shouldn't be doing this tonight. Her shirt was pulled off and flung away as Ron ran his hands over her collarbones, murmuring slightly. Hermione reached for the hem of his T-shirt, her fingers fumbling as she pulled it off and threw it away. Ron's hand was resting on her spine and it travelled up to rest on her bra strap. His hand hesitated, as if waiting for permission, but he took Hermione's silence as a yes. He unclipped it in a few jagged motions and Hermione allowed him to take it off and toss it to the side. They were both topless and lost in each others bodies. They pressed against each other, chest to chest, both of them liking the fire that enveloped them. Ron's hands were on Hermione's neck, brushing gently against the spot where he had kissed her. Her hands were on either side of his chest, supporting herself. They allowed their hands to wander a bit, adoring the surprise in which they found the next placement of each others palms. They let their rational thinking to just slip away. Only lust existed to them now, lust with love, the perfect kind. It was only when Ron's hand slipped to Hermione's knickers when she came to her senses.

She pulled away, her body lining for more and her mind trying to comprehend her thoughts. She rolled off Ron, who was looking guilty,  
>"I can't Ron" she said her voice cracking "I have work early tomorrow..." she faded off, feeling worse by the second. She gazed at Ron, praying he'd understand. For a second, he looked confused, but then he grinned sheepishly. "Okay, It's alright"<br>"Who are you and what have you done to Ron Weasley?"  
>"Oiy! I'm not <em>tha<em>t bad." he rolled his eyes and fake punched Hermione on the arm. "I'm just fine with it because I know you wouldn't of stopped unless it was something serious"  
>She stuck her tongue out at him, clambered up, and padded to her drawer. She pulled out a baggy T-shirt that advertised a charity that wasn't very well known. It reached just below her bum, covering the front of her and leaving the back exposed. She yawned and collapsed into Ron's arms, which were waiting patiently for her to fall into them. He rolled her over so they were both on their sides, spooning. He pulled the soft sheets up to Hermione's chin as she shivered.<br>"I love you, Hermione" he breathed into her ear.  
>"I love you too, Ron" she whispered back, She snuggled closer to him, her head falling into the feather pillow, and he squeezed her gently.<br>"Get some rest" he murmured, stroking her hair with his fingertips.  
>Hermione closed her eyes, liking the way he swiped her hair as he spoke softly in her ear. Ron muttered gently in the darkness; things that made her think of the possibilities. A smile stretched on her face. Now that was something she could look forward to.<p> 


End file.
